


Road to Nantes

by FrostyEmma



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stucky Secret Santa 2017, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyEmma/pseuds/FrostyEmma
Summary: Something like a strangled moan slipped out of Bucky’s mouth.There they were, deep in the heart of Occupied fucking France, hiding out in an abandoned farmhouse while waiting until morning to make the five hour walk to some place only a few of them knew how to pronounce.And instead of being up all night, thinking about contingency plans to go with their already shitty plans, or better yet, trying to get some sleep on the only mattress any of them had seen in weeks, Steve was pressing his raging boner against Bucky’s ass and had just wrapped his hand firmly around Bucky’s cock, with clear plans in mind to take things further.In an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the war, Steve and Bucky share a life-altering night.





	1. Under a Chenille Blanket

**Author's Note:**

> Adapted for SteveBucky Secret Santa.

**Vigneux-de-Bretagne, Occupied France**  
**1944**

“There.” Bucky blew out a tired breath and gestured with his binoculars to a farmhouse just visible over the crest of a hill. “We can camp there.”

They had been walking for at least six hours on the way to Nantes to follow up on intelligence about a Hydra weapons facility, but now in the rapidly dying light, the Howling Commandos needed to stop for a night’s rest. 

About an hour later, they reached the farmhouse, which was clearly abandoned and had even more clearly been looted. 

“Probably been slept in by just about anybody several times.” Dugan removed his hat and ran a gloved hand through matted hair. “Travelers. Soldiers. Anybody.”

“Probably.” Morita frowned, eyes straying over the thin layer of dust that coated every surface. “But not for several months.”

Despite having had its doors and almost every window smashed in, the house was in fairly good shape. The vegetable garden was the real godsend, though; it might have been overgrown, but there were plenty of vegetables for the taking. 

Steve grinned. “Enough to make a huge salad. Got to get those greens in.”

“There’s enough to take with us,” Falsworth observed. “We’ll just stick it right in our bloody backpacks.”

Bucky nodded once. “Good plan.”

They could avoid having to eat their K-rations for as long as possible that way.

Gabe and Dernier immediately started chatting in French as they picked every vegetable they deemed worthwhile for a salad. Dugan worked away at the pump in the back, which squeaked and complained for a few moments, but eventually brought up clear water. Falsworth and Morita discovered a dusty bottle of olive oil and a few cracked bowls for the salad in the kitchen, though nearly everything else had been picked over. 

The seven of them wound up sitting in a circle on the floor of the old dining room, munching away at the salad that tasted so wonderful after their weeks of rations. It didn’t even matter that they had to eat it with their hands; it was fresh and green, and that counted for everything. 

Dernier lamented - first in French to Gabe and then to the rest of them in English - that he wished there’d been just one bottle of wine.

“I’ll drink to that,” Gabe said cheerfully.

Bucky snorted and raised his canteen, freshly filled from the pump out back. “You’ll drink water to that.”

Once there was no more salad to be eaten (save what was stored in their backpacks), Steve wiped his hands down on a spare rag and suggested they explore the rest of the house. 

Morita smirked. “Give us the grand tour, Cap.”

Dugan raised both eyebrows. “You haven’t gotten enough of a tour in the past few months?”

“Enough to last a lifetime,” Bucky said, walking past both of them to follow Steve down the hallway.

The walls showed spots where there had hung the occasional mirror or painting, though those things had been long since stolen. The stairs hardly creaked at all, evidence of the sturdy craftsmanship that had gone into the house. But better yet by far, there were no holes in the roof and several of the rooms actually had mattresses. The bedframes themselves were nowhere to be found - probably they’d been stolen along with everything else of value in the house - but at least they’d have something soft to sleep on for the night.

Dernier, Falsworth, and Dugan took one room, Gabe and Morita another. Which left Steve and Bucky with the room with the most windows - a tactical advantage, since they’d be able to see and hear the approach of any incoming hostilities, but which would also let in the chilly and damp night breeze.

“Hey, Bucky, look at this.” Steve dug through a pile of discarded rubbish and came up smiling, a threadbare chenille blanket in his hands. “Remember this? I used to have the exact same one.”

Bucky sat underneath one of the shattered windows, using the moonlight to pour over the large map of France that was spread out in front of him. At Steve’s words, he looked up and smiled briefly. “Nice,” he said, before returning to the map.

“What have you got there?” Steve tossed the blanket onto the mattress and came over to crouch beside Bucky. “Did you find a quicker way to Nantes?” 

He didn’t even bother trying to pronounce the name of the place properly; Dernier and Gabe still ridiculed him for his pronunciation every chance they got. 

“There’s no quicker way.” Bucky traced his finger south from Vigneux-de-Bretagne to Nantes. “It’s about twenty kilometers away, so it’s going to take at least five hours to walk there. Four, maybe, if we really foot it.” 

“Oh, come on, Buck.” Steve smiled and put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, shaking him gently. “Put the map away, will you? We know where we’re going, we know which way it is, and we know we can make it there by lunchtime tomorrow if we don’t run into any trouble. Why do you need to look at the map again?”

“Maybe I was hoping something new and exciting would pop up.” Bucky sighed, but after a moment, he did fold up the map and tuck it into his jacket pocket. “Or maybe we could find a car somewhere. Get there in a half hour instead of spending the whole morning walking. Or maybe…”

“No more cars.” Steve shook his head, unable to hold back the chuckle. “Remember the mess we got into the last time we had cars?”

They’d been on another mission, this one deep inside Germany itself. They’d managed to destroy a key Hydra facility, but the only way to escape had been to steal a pair of big Daimler-Benz limousines. Dernier knew how to hotwire cars, naturally, but not Steve. Well, not before then, anyway. They’d only just barely gotten away, and the only way they’d managed to escape was by driving flat-out as fast as the cars could go until they ran out of gas. 

“I don’t think we do well with cars.”

Another smile flashed across Bucky’s face. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a car.” 

“A car that belonged to us from the beginning, maybe.” Steve returned the smile. “I think I’ve had just about enough of doing it the other way.”

Without warning, Bucky suddenly leaned forward and rested his head against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate this fucking country, Stevie.” His words were slightly muffled against the fabric of Steve’s jacket. “I hate that I can’t pronounce where we are or where we’re going. I hate that we have to walk there. I hate this whole fucking continent, but especially this Goddamn country.”

Steve’s arms went around Bucky reflexively, stunned as he was by the sudden outburst. Bucky usually had a solid grip on himself. What had happened to produce this?

“I hate it too, Buck.” He hugged Bucky against him tightly, Bucky’s uncombed hair tickling his ear. “I hate the war, I hate not being able to speak the language, I hate being so damn far from home. I hear you.” 

They stayed there for a long moment. Bucky’s shoulders rose and fell as he breathed deeply but shakily. Steve just stayed where he was, his arms around Bucky and his mind on their situation. The war. The ever-present danger. The unfamiliarity. Everything they both hated.

Finally he sighed. “Come on, Buck. It’s been a long day, and we’ve got a chance to get a real good night’s sleep here. Let’s go to bed. What do you say?”

\---

Well, there was nothing much more to say to that, was there? They had to sleep, because they had to get up at the asscrack of dawn and walk four or five hours to fucking Nantes.

Which, according to both Gabe and Dernier, was apparently pronounced something like “Nuh” or “Naun” or some other thing Bucky would never be able to figure out.

He forced himself onto his feet, and he and Steve spent a few moments trying to make the mattress into something comfortable. They had the threadbare chenille blanket, and in the closet they actually found a sheet with the ugliest green and orange floral pattern Bucky had ever seen.

“Probably why no one wanted to steal this shit.” He unfolded it and held it up for Steve see. “Look, you could ward off the Krauts with this.”

“You could ward off anyone who isn’t blind with that.” Steve gaped at the almost picturesque ugliness of the sheet. “I’m feeling a little warded off myself right now. That thing is so ugly I might have to invent some new adjectives for it.”

“It’s so ugly, it almost loops back on itself,” Bucky couldn’t help but smile, “and becomes a thing of beauty.” 

An image drifted across his mind right then: Steve, deep in the middle of art school, sitting with Bucky at the automat and talking about everything he had learned in this class or that. Throwing out new art words and techniques, and all Bucky could do was smile over pie and coffee and try to absorb some of the learning.

“Like the beautiful and the sublime.” Bucky tossed the sheet at him. “You finally found something to surpass your ‘Portrait of a Lady with a Unicorn’.”

Steve had gone on about that painting for weeks and had even dragged Bucky out to the museum in Manhattan to look at that damn thing.

“Don’t start.” Steve shook his head, smiling. “That painting’s a piece of history. They didn’t even know until a little before then that it was by Raphael. And you got to see it.” He held up the sheet with an exaggerated look of disdain. “How could you compare this horrible thing to a work by one of the Old Masters?”

“You’re such a little shit.” Bucky couldn’t keep the smile off his face, but that wasn’t a bad thing. There had been precious little to smile about lately. “Get that sheet on the bed and then follow it, would you?”

“You actually got to see it, that’s the thing.” Steve tucked the sheet around the mattress as best he could and pulled off his boots as he continued. “You got to see a Raphael painting. Do you know how many people go their whole lives without seeing a Raphael painting? That’s culture, right there.”

Bucky sat on the edge of the mattress. “Yeah? Well, apparently France is full of culture, but I would’ve been okay never seeing it.” 

He unbuckled the straps of his boots, but otherwise left them laced up on the floor. If needed, he could pull them back on on and be ready to go in seconds. After a moment’s hesitation, he removed his shoulder holster and belt, though the pistol was right within reach and his rifle was propped against the wall next to the mattress. Everything he needed was nearby, and so he could try to enjoy sleeping in something like a bed for the first time in weeks.

\---

Steve stretched out on the mattress, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of something soft under him. His sleeping had largely been done on hard ground since he’d joined the Army, and he was at the point now where even grass would have seemed like a luxury. An actual mattress, with an actual sheet and blanket, was something to be savored. What did it matter if the sheet was grotesquely ugly and the blanket was the same threadbare chenille thing he’d had in his own room back home?

Speaking of which, he pulled the blanket over himself to try to keep out the chill of the night air, encroaching on them through the shattered windows. Bucky, who had lain down beside him, immediately pulled a section of the blanket over himself. There was nothing for it, after a few moments of tug-of-war between the two of them, but to wriggle himself closer to Bucky so they could share the blanket. 

“This is so comfortable.” Steve smiled, edging himself right up next to Bucky and curling bodily around him. “How long has it been since we’ve slept in a real honest-to-God bed?”

“Couple weeks,” Bucky murmured. “And even those are cots, though I’d give anything for a clean cot right now. And a hot shower.” He paused, then, “In fact, fuck the cot. I’ll take the hot shower.”

“Mmmm.” Steve closed his eyes and imagined it. Hot water cascading down on him, making him feel clean in a way that the freezing water from the pump out back would never be able to do. A decent hot shower from the nearest Allied base. “One where we could let the water run for ten minutes if we felt like it.”

Bucky sighed. “That’d be nice, Stevie.”

A breeze came in through the window, making Steve shiver and prompting him to edge just a little closer to Bucky. He was pressed against him now, his front against Bucky’s back. And he was immediately grateful for the warmth.

An image flitted across his mind, bringing with it feelings of all sorts. The last time they had shared a bed had been ten years ago, when they had dragged Steve’s mattress out onto the fire escape to get away from the heat and ended up going much farther with one another than Steve had ever imagined they would. They’d joked about it afterwards, and since Bucky hadn’t brought it up again, Steve hadn’t either. But the memory was still there.

It was still there, and now it wouldn’t go away. He remembered reaching down the front of his shorts to touch himself, looking over at Bucky to see him doing the same thing underneath the thin blanket. Remembered suggesting to Bucky that they could help each other out. Remembered the way Bucky’s cock had felt in his hand, the way Bucky’s hand had felt on his cock, the massive amount of jism they’d both spilled all over themselves and each other…

He was getting hard. And the front of him was pressed right up against Bucky’s ass.

Something like a sigh slipped out of Bucky’s mouth, and Steve swore it seemed like Bucky was pushing back against him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. 

“Hey Bucky.” He felt that mischievous fire start to build in him again. “Know what this reminds me of?” He edged his hips just the tiniest bit closer. “That night when we brought the mattress out on the fire escape.” He laughed breathily, realizing how close his mouth was to Bucky’s ear, and whispered. “That was a great night, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky’s tone was just a little too pleased with itself. “We brought the mattress out dozens of times over the years.”

“You know which night I meant, you jerk.” Steve laughed again and whispered right into Bucky’s ear. “The night Frannie McDowell was out on the balcony, and we were both jerking off thinking about her.” He moved his hips forward again, pressing his hardness against Bucky’s rear. “And then we got each other off.”

“Oh, right. That night.” Bucky might’ve been trying for cavalier, but sounded breathless instead. It didn’t help that he kept rocking himself back against Steve. “Yeah, that wasn’t a bad night.”

“That was a great night.” The fact that Bucky was pushing back against him thrilled Steve - and prompted a bit more daring. He let his hand go to Bucky’s hip, then around to the front, and brushed against the front of his pants. And he kept grinding his hips forward, pressing himself against Bucky’s ass. “I know you thought it was; you came buckets.”

Bucky stiffened against him for a moment, then pushed back against Steve a bit more forcefully. “Might’ve,” he said, and there was no mistaking how breathless he was.

Steve let his hand go wandering. Exploring the hardening bulge at the front of Bucky’s pants. Pressing, stroking, squeezing gently. Thinking wonderful thoughts the whole time.

“You know,” he whispered as he brought his hand up underneath Bucky’s jacket to search for his belt buckle, “who knows when we’ll have a room to ourselves again?” He smiled and humped his hips forward again, forceful and lingering. “We don’t have a whole neighborhood out there that might be watching, you know.”

“Just all of Occupied France,” Bucky said hoarsely. And yet, he placed his hand over the one lingering on his belt buckle, threading their fingers together. “And a couple of rooms full of guys.”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s hand and, making what might have been his most daring move yet, bent his head forward to kiss Bucky on the side of his neck, right behind the ear. And as he did, he began to work on the belt buckle.

Bucky hissed and ended up practically wiggling his unfortunately clothed ass against Steve’s cock. “I don’t know,” he murmured, voice ragged with emotion. He did nothing to stop Steve’s progress, however.

“Oh, I know you can be quiet.” Steve laughed softly and kissed Bucky on the neck again, this time lower. “I’m the one who can never shut up, remember?”

The belt buckle gave way. So did the button on the waistband of Bucky’s pants. So did the zipper. And then Steve’s hand was slithering down the front of Bucky’s pants, parting the flyhole of Bucky’s shorts, and…

“There you are.” Steve rocked his hips forward as he wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock. “I remember this.”

\---

Something like a strangled moan slipped out of Bucky’s mouth.

There they were, deep in the heart of Occupied fucking France, hiding out in an abandoned farmhouse while waiting until morning to make the five hour walk to some place only a few of them knew how to pronounce. And instead of being up all night, thinking about contingency plans to go with their already shitty plans, or better yet, trying to get some sleep on the only mattress any of them had seen in weeks, Steve was pressing his raging boner against Bucky’s ass and had just wrapped his hand firmly around Bucky’s cock, with clear plans in mind to take things further.

Bucky should have put a stop to things right then and there, and he would’ve, if he were smarter. But hey, he was just some dumb ass jerk from Red Hook, and if he were going to spend tomorrow taking a five hour hike to risk death at the hands of Hydra and their fancy weapons, then at least he could get a halfway decent night with his best pal first.

If he could focus, that was.

“Do you?” He was shivering, though for the cold or for anticipation, he couldn’t tell. Probably both. “What do you remember?”

“I remember thinking your cock felt different from mine.” Steve stroked Bucky’s shaft up and down, running his thumb over the tip to capture the bead of precum that had collected there. “I remember getting your jism all over my hand and lying down to sleep with my hand by my face so I could smell it on myself.” He arched his hips against Bucky again, his words coming out as a low moan. “I remember hearing you say my name when you spilled.”

“No, that’s not right.” 

Steve swirled the slickness over the head of Bucky’s cock and then up and down his shaft, and before long, he was lubricated in his own fluids. Steve’s hand slid easily up and down the length of him, and Bucky had to still himself for a moment to keep from finishing right then and there.

“I said Frannie’s name.” He couldn’t help but press himself against Steve’s front now, couldn’t help but lean his head back. “Pretty sure it was Frannie’s name.”

Steve chuckled and pressed his lips to Bucky’s neck again. “Pretty sure ‘Stevie’ doesn’t sound a thing like ‘Frannie’.” He pushed back against Bucky, his erection fitting right between Bucky’s ass cheeks. “But if it makes you feel any better, I remember saying ‘Bucky’ when I came.”

“Maybe,” Bucky managed, but he was starting to lose himself under Steve’s careful ministrations, and he didn’t think he was going to last long at all.

Precum continued to drip from his cock, and Steve obligingly rubbed it around the sensitive underside of the head, his thumb applying just enough pressure to-

“Stevie,” Bucky said suddenly, and he was done. He was about to lose it completely. 

\---

Steve could tell Bucky was about to explode. His muscles had tensed, his breathing was ragged, and his cock had begun to throb and pulse. And Steve found he had no desire to let things end that quickly. Not when he’d begun to imagine some wonderfully raunchy things to do…

“Whoa, hold on there.” He let go of Bucky’s cock, which twitched in the air, and moved his hand up to the buttons on Bucky’s jacket. “No need to hurry. We’ve got the room to ourselves and the whole night to use.”

“You tease,” Bucky said shakily, and after a moment, stilled Steve’s hand. He shifted around on the mattress until they were facing each other. His face was flushed with lust. “And we don’t have all night, buddy. I shouldn’t have to remind you of our five hour hike at the asscrack of dawn.”

“Most of the night, then.” He found himself looking into Bucky’s eyes, and felt his heart jump. And the words seemed to tumble out of his mouth all by themselves. “And I don’t want to waste a minute of it.”

The kiss surprised him as much as it must have surprised Bucky - a soft meeting of their lips that somehow became a passionate mashing together of their mouths. And he couldn’t help but bring his hand up behind Bucky’s head to pull him deeper into it. And after a moment, Bucky had his hand behind Steve’s head too, his fingers carding desperately in his hair.

Steve found himself moaning into the kiss, having to remind himself to be quiet. He was suddenly struck by the desire to run his tongue over Bucky’s lips, and when he did, it triggered a reaction from Bucky that had Steve’s cock throbbing in his pants. Their tongues met, sliding over one another, exploring the insides of each other’s mouths, until they finally broke apart in order to breathe.

“Wow.” That was all Steve could get out, and it was woefully inadequate.

“Yeah,” Bucky managed, a breathless smile spreading over his face.

What he wanted now, Steve discovered as he started to undo Bucky’s jacket again, was to get Bucky out of his clothes. He wanted to see everything, and he wanted to be seen as well. He was very happy with his new body - it was exactly the way he’d always wanted to look - and he hoped Bucky would be happy with it too.

“We’re wearing too much.” He breathed it into Bucky’s ear as he undid the last button and started pulling on the jacket, hoping to get rid of it and everything else underneath it. “Don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” Bucky was shivering again, and he sat up suddenly and shrugged out of his jacket. “I don’t know what to think.” 

“So don’t.” 

Steve sat up as well and began to undo the buttons on Bucky’s shirt. He wanted to see Bucky out of that shirt, out of all his clothes, naked as the two of them had been that hot summer night in Brooklyn all those years ago. Wanted to shed his own clothes and press his naked body against Bucky’s. Wanted to do everything he could imagine in what Bucky had often called his perverted little mind. 

“Don’t think, just feel.”

Bucky surged forward suddenly and pressed his lips against Steve’s. His fingers scrabbled at Steve’s belt buckle for a moment, before working his way up the front of his uniform. 

Steve pulled his mouth back from Bucky’s slightly, just enough to whisper “Let me do that.” He smiled apologetically as he began undoing the complicated series of buckles that held the uniform together. “It’s not an easy thing to get out of.”

“Yeah.” Bucky shifted back and eyed Steve for a moment, his mouth pulling into a smirk. “I was just about to ask you how the hell we get that thing off.” 

“Like this.” He undid the last buckle and peeled the top of the uniform off, dropping it beside the mattress and turning back to Bucky. He gave him a salacious grin and followed with, “I’ll let you take care of the rest.”

He didn’t wait for an invitation from Bucky, though. He went right back to undoing Bucky’s shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it next to his own uniform top. Bucky’s undershirt followed a second later, and then they were both naked from the waist up.

Both with their belts undone. Bucky with his pants undone and his cock peeking out through the front of his shorts. Steve suddenly got an idea that was so wonderful, so sensually wicked, that he felt his own cock jump in his pants at the thought of it.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he whispered as he gently pushed Bucky backwards onto the mattress. He got a hold of the waistband of Bucky’s pants, one hand at each hip, the trousers and shorts both, and began pulling them down.

A moment later, Bucky’s trousers and socks were tossed to the floor, and he lay on the mattress completely naked, save for his set of dog tags. 

“Well…” Bucky grinned cheekily. Nervously, maybe. “Here I am.”

Steve took a moment to drink in the sight in front of him. Bucky’s naked body was on display, and it was one of the most erotic sights Steve could imagine. Especially in light of what they were about to do. Bucky’s cock hadn’t flagged at all; it was rigidly upright and occasionally twitching. His chest, lightly-furred and well-muscled, was rising and falling with each deep breath. Steve’s oh-so-perverted imagination was already conjuring up images of what Bucky would look like once they’d gotten going…

“Yeah,” he said breathily. “There you are.”

“So…” Bucky licked his lips. His voice trembled ever-so-slightly. “Your turn.”

Steve didn’t wait to be asked twice. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and skinned them down in one motion along with his undershorts. His cock sprang upwards as it was released from its confines and smacked him audibly in the stomach. He kicked his pants and shorts away to the side of the mattress to join the pile of other discarded clothes, and then there they were. The both of them, naked save for their dog tags and hard as iron.

\---

For a long, stupid moment, Bucky couldn’t formulate words. He just lay there on the mattress, staring up at Steve in wordless admiration, though he realized he did lick his lips once or twice.

Subtlety had escaped him suddenly.

“God, Stevie. You look…” He shook his head, a breathless puff of laughter escaping him. “Just… Goddamn.”

“You too, Buck.” Steve crawled over to him - crawled right on top of him, pulling the chenille blanket with him - and smiled. “You look amazing like this.”

“Yeah, but you…” Another laugh, more of a nervous chuckle. He was shaking again, with a potent combination of desire and nerves and need. “You look…”

Less talking. More action. Bucky could do that much.

Steve hovered over him, but he hadn’t closed the gap between them yet. Bucky reached out and hooked a finger over the chain of Steve’s dog tags, gently drawing him down until their bodies met fully, deliciously naked skin against skin. 

“There,” he said, voice quivering more than he wanted. “Better.”

“Much,” Steve whispered hoarsely, then swallowed and tried again. “Much better.” A pause, then the hint of a mischievous smile. “Much, much better.”

Steve shifted himself over slightly, just the perfect amount to align himself right over Bucky. Just enough so that the full length of his cock was suddenly pressed against the full length of Bucky’s, from root to tip. And Steve let out the most delicious-sounding moan from low in his throat…

“God, Bucky, that feels so good.”

And they hadn’t even started moving yet, hadn’t even done all that much. It was just the two of them, naked as anything and pressed against each other, cocks occasionally twitching with unmet need. 

He nearly came at that thought alone.

Bucky’s puff of laughter turned into a full-on breathless chuckle. “And we haven’t even done much yet.” He hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him somehow even closer with trembling hands. “Haven’t done much at all, but you feel… “ 

Too incredible, and yet Bucky was still trembling. He had made it with dames before, so that wasn’t the problem. And Steve was his best buddy. And yet…

“You feel so good, Stevie…” he murmured. “You look so good...”

Steve paused a moment. Looked into Bucky’s eyes as if he were searching for something, then reached up to gently cup Bucky’s cheek.

“It’s okay, Buck,” he whispered. “It’s us. Just the two of us.” He smiled. “Like that night on the fire escape, only better.”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled a shaky sort of smile. “And we don’t have any Frannie McDowell as an excuse this time.”

Steve kissed him in response, a long lingering kiss on the lips, and rolled his hips forward. His slickened cock slid along Bucky’s, sensitive skin gliding over sensitive skin in a way that dragged another throaty groan from Steve. 

“Don’t need one,” came the whispered response, followed by another deep kiss. Steve rocked his hips again, sliding his cock up and down along the length of Bucky’s with their combined arousal beginning to make things wonderfully slippery. “Don’t need an excuse to be doing this. We called out each other’s names last time, remember...”

“I remember.” Bucky clutched at the back of Steve’s head, fingers beginning to tug desperately at his hair. “I remember closing my eyes and pretending it was Frannie, until I couldn’t pretend any longer.”

Their bodies were building up a delicious, slippery heat between them. Their cocks ground tortuously against each other, slick with their combined fluids. Bucky had the urge to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist, just to lock him in closer, just to keep Steve kissing his lips and his face and his neck.

“And I remember…” He was beginning to pant heavily. “I remember it felt so good… So damn good, Stevie…”

A second later, he gave into the urge. His legs went around Steve’s waist, heels pressing against the firm flesh of Steve’s ass. He continued to card his fingers through Steve’s hair, and then Steve pressed a kiss against the base of Bucky’s throat, and Bucky cried out, grabbed a fistful of Steve’s hair and pulled.

Steve’s eyes went wide for a moment, then went semi-closed again as a long moan of pleasure escaped him to murmur against the hollow of Bucky’s throat. And the motion of his hips became a little more exaggerated.

“Oh God, Stevie…” Bucky panted. “Oh God…”

\---

When Bucky wrapped his legs around his waist, Steve thought he might just explode then and there. Feeling Bucky grab a fistful of his hair and pull was even more erotic. And when Bucky started moaning and panting his name…

“Shhh,” he whispered into Bucky’s throat as his kisses became nibbles. “Keep it quiet. We don’t want any company, after all.”

But still, Bucky’s body felt amazing against his own. Especially his cock, so hard and thick against his own, the veins in it pulsing almost in time with Steve’s. And with Bucky’s legs wrapped around his waist as he moved his hips in a fucking motion - 

They were fucking, he realized with a thrill. He and Bucky were fucking. Naked on a mattress, their hands and mouths on each other, their cocks rubbing together in the slipperiness of their combined heat, and everything felt so incredible that it was a wonder he didn’t go over the edge right then.

“Jesus, Bucky, your cock feels so good on mine…”

“God, Stevie.” Bucky made a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a moan. “You keep talking dirty like that…” He pressed his lips against Steve’s, their tongues swirling and darting against each other. 

“Like what?” Steve grinned mischievously and whispered in between hungry kisses, his tongue exploring every part of Bucky’s mouth he could reach. “Like telling you how every time our cocks rub together, it squeezes a little more juice out of me?” He caught Bucky’s lower lip between his teeth. “Or like telling you how I can feel every little pulse that goes through your cock? Or what about how much I want to feel you come all over the place like you did last time?”

“You keep talking like this,” Bucky gasped between kisses, squeezing his legs even tighter around Steve’s waist, “and I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to.” Steve rocked his hips faster, harder, knowing he was close and not caring. “I want to feel you come. I want to feel it on my stomach and my chest and my cock…” 

He could feel it building, rising up in him, and all he wanted now was to bring Bucky along with him. For them both to come together and coat each other with it.

“Come on, Buck, come with me…” He brought his mouth down to Bucky’s throat suddenly and bit down.

That did it. Bucky cried out, clutching his legs and fingers suddenly and desperately against Steve’s waist and hair. His whole body tensed up for one frantic moment before he spilled over in endless hot bursts that splattered against both of their stomachs and chests.

“Oh God, oh Stevie, oh God,” Bucky panted, seemingly mindless of anyone who could be listening.

And there it was. The feeling of Bucky’s jism splattering against him sent him right over the edge. Steve ground his cock against Bucky’s, sliding through warm slippery pools of cum, and mashed his mouth against Bucky’s and it was like an explosion. He came hard and long, pulsing hot and slippery streams of it against Bucky’s cock and onto his stomach and it didn’t seem like it would ever stop…

“God, Buck,” he panted as he came down from it. “God, that felt incredible.” A shudder ran through him as he shifted, his cock twitching again and spilling out another hot rivulet that trickled down onto Bucky’s softening shaft. And it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss him passionately, his tongue finding Bucky’s and their lips pressed together with real need.

He rolled off Bucky after a long moment. He needed to catch his breath. And put an arm around Bucky. And hold him close while he reflected on what they’d done. He had nothing close to anything resembling any regrets about it, but it still deserved consideration and reflection.

He’d never forget how it felt, he realized happily as his breathing started to return to normal.

“That was incredible.” So what if he was repeating himself? Some things bore repeating. “Absolutely incredible.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bucky murmured, and for a long moment, the two of them seemed content to lay wrapped around each other. But finally, Bucky raised his head and said, “Hey, Steve? At least one of us should get dressed and bring up a bucket of water from the pump.” He traced his fingers lightly over Steve’s stomach, slick with rapidly drying jism. “We don’t want to go to sleep like this.”

“Who said anything about going to sleep yet?” Steve propped himself up on his elbow and grinned devilishly. “I’ll go get the water, but I don’t plan on going to sleep for a while.”

He pulled on his pants, while Bucky watched him from the mattress like a very satisfied lover. Which, Steve realized with a strange thrill, he was. His best friend had become his lover, and the thought of it made him want to laugh with happiness and excitement.

On his way down the stairs, he realized that Bucky’s jism was very obvious on his torso. He doubted he’d be able to explain it away to anyone who happened to see it, and so he rushed through what he had to do as quickly as he possibly could. He found a few rags in the kitchen, drew a bucket of water from the pump, and paused long enough on his way back to the stairs to snatch up the bottle of olive oil. 

Because he’d just had another wonderfully wicked idea, one that returned him almost immediately to hardness.

“Here we go.” He set the water bucket and the rag down gently by the window and the olive oil by the mattress, then turned to look at Bucky again. Bucky hadn’t moved from his reclining position on the mattress, and Steve was pleased to notice that the satisfied look on his face hadn’t dissipated. 

“But I don’t think we’re ready to clean up just yet.” Steve smiled again and peeled off his pants, his new erection springing free as he did. Bucky’s jism was drying on him in some places, still gooey in others, but he didn’t want to wash it away. He wanted it on him, wanted the feeling and the scent and the knowledge of it to stay with him for as long as he could manage it. 

“Not when we’re just going to get dirty again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are a writer's bread and wine!


	2. Perfect Clarity

Steve left the room wearing nothing but pants and their combined splatters of jism. For the love of Christ, Bucky hoped Steve didn’t run into anyone on the way to the kitchen, because there was no fucking way he’d be able to explain himself. Not adequately, and besides, Steve was the world’s worst liar.

Bucky found himself smiling stupidly anyway, probably due to lingering effects of being a well-satiated lover. And that’s what they had become, hadn’t they? From best pals to lovers, and that didn’t feel so bad.

It felt great, actually.

He didn’t have time explore the thought further. Steve returned with the water and a bottle of olive oil and a wicked expression on his face. And then he peeled off his pants and a brand new erection sprung free.

“Christ, Stevie.” Bucky didn’t mean to, but he stared at Steve’s dick with wide eyes. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“From walking downstairs covered in jism.” Steve looked down at himself with what could only be described as pride. “And from thinking about what I wanted to do next.”

Bucky sat up on the mattress and raised an eyebrow. “And what did you want to do next?” He couldn’t help but glance at the bottle of olive oil.

Well, he definitely had some ideas, but he wanted to hear them from Steve’s filthy mouth first. 

“Well,” Steve said as he came closer to the mattress and lowered himself onto it on his knees. “I was thinking I’d like to feel a whole different part of you on my cock.” He met Bucky’s eyes with his own. “A part that needs some greasing up if it’s going to work.”

Bucky looked at him for a long, searching moment. And then he surprised himself by leaning back against the mattress, a smile flitting across his face. 

“Okay,” he said, his breath already quickening from the images beginning to crash around his head. 

Steve had an impressively large cock; definitely larger than it had been that night on the fire escape all those years ago. Dimly Bucky realized it must have been due to the super-soldier serum, and wasn’t that a fine little bonus to the rest of Steve’s enhanced body?

His own cock twitched at the thought. It wasn’t quite ready to spring erect, but it wouldn’t take much to get it there either. 

“Okay,” he repeated, because he didn’t know what else to say, but he realized quite suddenly that he wanted Steve to fuck him all the same. 

Steve knelt down on the mattress, nudging Bucky’s knees to either side of his own, and started to run his hands over Bucky’s body. His hands roamed over Bucky’s cock, his thighs, his lower stomach, and down below his balls as well. The remaining jism was soon rubbed in, and Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky passionately once more.

“God, Bucky, I can hardly believe we’re doing this,” he whispered heatedly against Bucky’s mouth as his hands worked on Bucky’s rapidly-swelling cock and reached down to explore even lower. “What I’m about to do…”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. “Neither can I.” He pressed kisses against Steve’s lips and chin and throat, each kiss eliciting a delicious moan or gasp that simply encouraged Bucky to keep going. “Neither can I, but I want it.”

Steve’s fingers wrapped firmly around Bucky’s cock, and it really wasn’t going to take long before he was fully erect again.

“I want you,” Bucky whispered, hardly believing that he saying the words and meaning them. He was shivering again, but from delicious anticipation and white-hot need. 

Steve was trembling as well; the bottle of olive oil shook when he poured out a generous dollop into his hand. His hand shook when he reached down to cup Bucky’s ass, fingers pressing the handful of warm oil right against Bucky’s rim.

“I want you too,” he breathed shakily. “God, Bucky, I want you so bad.” 

Steve massaged the oil in, his fingertips tracing circles over Bucky’s rim. He probed with a fingertip, met resistance, and withdrew to scoop up more oil. This time the fingertip slid past the resistance, and Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

“Feels good?” Steve began to move his fingertip ever so slightly. “I like it.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah,” he managed shakily, closing his eyes and allowing himself to just feel the strange new sensation. 

Strange, but not bad. Steve moved slowly, almost torturously, until his whole finger was sheathed in Bucky. 

“Looks like you like it.” Steve brought his other hand around to fondle Bucky’s freshly-stiffened cock. “Feels like it too.” He moved to cup his hand under Bucky’s balls, then back up to slowly stroke the shaft, the finger inside Bucky working gently against the muscle.

The feeling of Steve’s hand sliding up and down Bucky’s cock, while his finger slid gently in and out of him was almost too much. Too much all at once, and if Bucky opened his eyes, he thought he might just lose it right then and there. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispered. God, it was too much. It felt too fucking good, and they had just barely gotten started. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” Steve worked his finger in and out of Bucky’s ass, stroking up and down the length of Bucky’s now-throbbing cock, and leaned forward to whisper in Bucky’s ear. “I don’t want to stop till I get to feel you around me.”

He slid another finger in.

\---

Hearing Bucky gasp and whisper kept Steve hard as a rock without even having to touch himself. And feeling Bucky’s cock throb in his hand, feeling Bucky’s ring squeeze his fingers as he worked them back and forth, was enough to make him twitch and drip. What was it going to feel like when he took his fingers out and pushed his cock in?

He moaned at the thought. 

“You feel so good, Buck.” He whispered heavily into Bucky’s ear as he felt the tight muscle of Bucky’s ass gradually relax and loosen around his probing fingers. “So fucking good… I want to keep going.”

He thought for a moment about withdrawing his fingers and pressing his cock against Bucky’s tightness until it went in. About rocking his hips forward again and again, working more of himself into Bucky with every thrust until he was finally buried to the root. About taking long, slow strokes that would lead to him burying his whole length inside Bucky as he came, and about feeling Bucky finish all over him again.

But then his imagination showed him a much better idea, one that brought a positively wicked smile to his face, and he whispered in Bucky’s ear again.

“Switch with me, Buck,” he whispered as he withdrew his fingers and gave Bucky’s cock one last fondle. 

Bucky’s eyes flew open at that, but before he could protest, Steve continued.

“Let me lay down.”

There was one more use for his newfound strength, thought Steve as he lifted Bucky up and rolled over to take his place until Bucky was astride him.

Bucky carded his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You’ve gotten so strong,” he murmured. “Still not used to it.”

“Me neither,” Steve whispered as his fingers slid back into Bucky’s tightness, this time without as much resistance, though Bucky moaned, nearly pushing Steve over the edge. “But it comes in handy sometimes.” A little more of the olive oil made it even easier. And Bucky’s cock fit so wonderfully in his hand…

“I think you’ve gotten even harder.” He looked up and smiled, working his fingers back and forth. “If such a thing is possible.”

Bucky chuckled breathlessly. “Seems like anything is possible right now.” He squirmed as Steve moved his fingers inside of him, their cocks rubbing maddeningly against each other, slippery with their combined fluids. 

The memory of what they’d done only a short time ago was maddening as well, and the sticky remnants of it on Steve’s stomach and chest were a constant wonderful reminder of it.

“Think it’s possible for you to fit me in?” Steve looked into Bucky’s eyes as he scissored his fingers inside Bucky’s ass. The fingers of his other hand wrapped around his own hardness as well as Bucky’s, clasping their cocks together in his fist and stroking both as one.

Bucky buried his face in Steve’s neck. “Yeah.” His lips grazed the sensitive flesh as he spoke, sending a spasm of shivers down Steve’s spine. “Yeah, I think so.”

Steve’s voice came out as a husky whisper. “I want you, Buck.” He licked his lips and whispered it against Bucky’s skin. “I want to fuck you.”

Bucky tightened his fingers in Steve’s hair and pressed a kiss against the side of his neck. “Do it,” he murmured. “Fuck me, Stevie.”

Steve almost came right then.

“All right,” he whispered, letting go of their cocks and withdrawing his fingers slowly from Bucky’s ass. Pouring another dribble of the olive oil into his hand, he quickly slathered it over his cock and slid his hands under Bucky’s ass, lifting him up. Spread him open and lowered him tantalizingly downward until Steve felt the tip of his cock pressing against puckered, slightly yielding muscle.

“Stevie…” Bucky breathed, lifting his head and looking at Steve with wide, needy eyes. 

Slowly, slowly, he lowered Bucky’s body down further, urging his own hips slightly upward and feeling Bucky’s ring gradually open to admit him. Further down, until he felt the head of his cock pop inside. And further still, slowly and tantalizingly further, until he felt that wonderful tightness swallow him up all the way to the root.

Bucky moaned. Loudly. Too loudly, and his whole body shook and seemed to clench around Steve’s cock.

“God, Buck, I’m inside you.” Steve’s own eyes went wide, staring into Bucky’s. “I’m all the way in and you feel so good…”

Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve’s, fingers still tight in his hair. His whole body continued to tremble slightly and he panted with shallow breaths. “Well?” he said unsteadily. “What are you waiting for? Fuck me.”

Steve laughed breathily, his arms going around Bucky, and stretched upwards to kiss him. “Christ, Bucky, I love you.” They’d blurred the line between friends and lovers that night ten years ago, and tonight they’d crossed it entirely. 

He arched his hips upward, trying to push himself even deeper than he already was, but found he had to pull back. Pulling back, though, was its own pleasure. And so was pushing back in again, deeply, until he felt Bucky’s firm ass flatten against his own hips.

“You want me to fuck you, Bucky?” He whispered it into Bucky’s ear as he pumped himself deliciously in and out. “Tell me how you want it. Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

But Bucky seemed beyond coherent thought at that point. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his fingers remained clenched in Steve’s hair as Steve moved slowly, deliciously, inside of him.

“Just… just…” Bucky’s breath hitched and turned into a long, desperate moan. “Fuck me, Stevie… Just fuck me…”

Bucky’s moaning made Steve’s cock throb with need, and his next upward stroke was stronger. Still slow, but definitely stronger.

“Want me to fuck you hard?” Steve licked at Bucky’s earlobe, then nipped it. “Want to feel me come all the way out and then slide back in?” 

Bucky’s fingernails dug into Steve’s scalp. “Do it,” he said loudly. Far too loudly.

“Shhhh.” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear. “Too loud.” He pulled back as far as he could without falling out, and then slowly pushed back in until he was fully seated again. “Got to,” he moaned softly, “stay quiet if you want more of this.”

“Want…” Bucky just managed, but didn’t seem capable of anything further. 

His admonitions to Bucky notwithstanding, he couldn’t help the groan of satisfaction that slipped out of his mouth and he reached down to take Bucky’s pulsing cock in his hand again.

“Are you close, Buck?” He stroked Bucky’s hardness as it twitched and throbbed in his hand. “Can you hold back, or does it feel too good?”

He didn’t wait to hear Bucky’s response; he was close to being too far gone himself. He drove his cock into Bucky’s tightness, feeling the exquisite ring squeeze him along every inch, and now he was doing exactly what Bucky had begged him to do. He was fucking him.

“I can’t hold back,” he gasped. Bucky moaned above him, Bucky’s cock throbbed in his stroking hand, Bucky’s ass was practically milking him, and it was too much. “I’m going to come…”

He thrust upwards, arching his hips and his back off the mattress and lifting Bucky into the air with the force of it, and he erupted deep inside Bucky’s ass. White-hot pulses of it, bursting and exploding into that clasping slick heat. And Bucky’s cock was pulsing in his hand too, and more of that wonderful hot slipperiness was pouring out against his skin, covering his fingers and his stomach in its amazing heat, and it seemed like it would go on forever.

And then, just as suddenly as the sensation had taken over him, it was gone. And he collapsed back down onto the mattress with Bucky atop him, Bucky’s cock trapped between them and still leaking with his pleasure, and his own cock gradually beginning to soften inside Bucky’s ass.

“God, Buck.” He breathed shakily, feeling tiny jolts still rushing through him. “Why didn’t we do this before?”

For a long moment, Bucky didn’t respond. He lay limp against Steve, chest heaving with exertion, until gradually his breathing steadied. And only then did he murmur “love you, Stevie,” into the side of Steve’s neck. 

“Love you too, Bucky.” Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, then smiled and turned his head. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

Bucky snorted. Didn’t lift his head. “You’re a punk.”

“So tell me something I don’t know.” Steve snorted in return. “You’ve been telling me that my whole life.”

Steve’s cock had finally softened to the extent that it slipped out of Bucky, and it felt natural to shift Bucky’s weight slightly so that he was lying half-on, half-off of Steve, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder. 

“I mean it, though,” Steve continued as he reached up a hand to stroke Bucky’s hair. “We should have done this a long time ago.” He smiled mischievously. “Would’ve made sleepovers a lot more fun.”

Bucky smiled against him. “Would’ve made sleepovers a lot messier, too.” He felt around for the chenille blanket, which had slipped off the edge of the mattress on Steve’s side, and dragged it over them. “My ma would’ve killed us if we ruined her blankets like this. And don’t pretend that ain’t true.”

“Oh, come on, Buck, it’s not like blankets can’t be washed.” Steve adjusted the blanket, still smiling. “And besides, it would’ve been worth it if we could’ve been doing this for years.”

“Guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” Bucky traced his fingers lightly over Steve’s chest, then snorted in amusement. “God, Steve, you’re a mess.” He raised his head slightly and looked at him. “We’re a mess. We should do something about that.”

“I sort of like having your jism on me.” Steve shrugged. “And besides, who said we were finished?”

Bucky made a sound that was halfway between a snort of laughter and a gasp of astonishment. “That super-soldier serum’s really working out for you, buddy, but let me remind you that the rest of us mere mortal assholes don’t quite have your stamina.”

Steve sighed dramatically. “I guess you’re right.” He hugged Bucky tighter against him, feeling their bodies pressed against one another and loving it. “But I still don’t want to get up yet. Do you?”

“Nope.” For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Bucky lifted his head and said, “Though as your sergeant, it would be remiss of me not to remind you that we still have to get up at the asscrack of dawn to walk five hours to some city we can’t even pronounce, and do you really want to be scrambling to clean yourself up before it’s time to go?”

“I don’t.” Steve sighed again, even more exaggeratedly, and pushed back the blanket. “But what I said before still stands. I’m getting up under protest.”

But he did get up, and as he crossed the room to bring the bucket of water over, he found himself wishing they could have more time. And maybe they could, he thought suddenly, even if it weren’t that night. Maybe they could find some other nights to spend together. Maybe they could find even just a few hours to have to themselves, somewhere no one would bother them. Maybe they could follow this thing they’d found until it led them where they were meant to go.

Which was… where?

“Here we go.” He set the bucket down next to the mattress, sat down, wrung the water out of the rag, and started to clean himself off. The water was unfortunately frigid, which quelled the beginnings of the erection he was feeling, but maybe that was for the best.

“For the love of - get off the mattress, Steve. We have to sleep on that thing.” Bucky rolled out of bed and onto his feet, and Steve was treated to a very nice view of Bucky attempting to clean himself up with only one rag and a bucket of frigid water. 

“All right, all right.” Steve smiled as he got up and, shivering, continued to clean himself off. Keeping his eyes on Bucky as he did made the cold water a bit more bearable, but even the sight of his naked best friend cleaning their mingled jism off of his body couldn’t get him hard through the chill.

For a few minutes, they cleaned themselves in silence, save for a couple of complaints about the coldness of the water and a muttered “Christ, what I wouldn’t give for a hot shower,” from Bucky.

“All right, good enough,” Bucky finally said, holding up the rag and looking at it critically. “This thing’s covered in our spunk.” He snorted. “Just like our shirts from way back when.”

Steve had to smile at that. “We’re always going to keep on coming back to that night, aren’t we?”

It had been a great night, he remembered with satisfaction. So great that he’d carried the memory of it with him in perfect clarity ever since. So great that now, so many years later, not only did he and Bucky still talk about it, they’d finally picked up where they’d left off.

Bucky looked at him for a long moment before tossing the rag aside. “Are we? This is the first time we’ve mentioned it since... “ He shrugged. “Since it happened.” He picked out his clothing from the hastily discarded pile and began to redress himself.

“Yeah,” Steve replied as he went looking for his own clothes, “but look what we just did.” He looked over at Bucky and smiled. “I never forgot that night, Buck. Even if we didn’t talk about it. And now look at us.”

“And now look at us,” Bucky repeated. He finished buttoning his jacket and laid back down on the mattress. Steve joined him a moment later, and Bucky pulled the chenille blanket over the both of them. “So,” he continued, “what does that mean?”

Steve reached out with both arms and gathered Bucky into an embrace. Bucky’s head fitted into the hollow of his shoulder like a machine part that had been made to fit there. And he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“I don’t know exactly what it means.” He turned his head so he could feel Bucky’s hair against his cheek and his lips. “But I think it means we’re going to have to look for other places we can spend the night together.”

Bucky draped an arm across Steve’s chest. “We spend the night together all the time. In the dirt, in bombed out shitholes. All the time.”

“Oh, come on, Buck, you know what I meant.” He blew out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, though the smile never left his eyes. He paused a moment, then tightened his arms around Bucky and hugged him close. “I mean someplace we can do more of what we did tonight. And more of what we’re doing right now afterwards.” 

“That’d be nice,” Bucky said softly. And then more insistently, “Now go to sleep. We have to be awake in a few hours, and I won’t have you stumbling all over the countryside like a mook because you stayed up all night.”

Steve grumbled a bit, of course, but he did go to sleep. Pretty quickly, in fact, and all through that night he lay there with Bucky in his arms. He didn’t wake up until Bucky jostled him in the morning. And when he did wake up, he stretched and felt Bucky next to him and smiled more broadly than he remembered having done in a long time.

And he thought of that night all the way to Nantes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE THE FIRST: Some of my regular readers might recognize strains of my ongoing erotic Stucky series, _Under the Chenille Blanket_. This was originally written as a direct sequel to the first part of the series, but then the series grew legs of its own and went in an entirely different direction. This sat unfinished on my hard drive for nearly two years.
> 
> UNTIL STEVEBUCKY SECRET SANTA! Which finally gave me a reason to dust this off, adapt it a bit, and then finish it. After all, good Stucky smut should never go to waste. 
> 
> NOTE THE SECOND: As always, kudos and comments are the stuff that keeps writers going. Please be generous with both!


End file.
